


Baltimore Memories

by Wolvesandwerewolves



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst and Humor, Cameras, Cats, F/M, M/M, Random & Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-03-22 21:49:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13773276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolvesandwerewolves/pseuds/Wolvesandwerewolves
Summary: Idk what this is. I was bored, its not my best, I apologize.Lola recorded some of the Baltimore kidnapping. The videos surface after years.Aaron and Katelyn visit New York City to see the ball drop. Aaron can't miss the opportunity to see his brother while he's in town.





	Baltimore Memories

**Author's Note:**

> Uhhh I don't have an excuse for this

Aaron considered complaining, for the third time since they'd decided to come here, but he doubted Katelyn would have believed it. He doubted she believed it the first time. After years together, her ability to see through his bullshit was as sharp and quick as the rest of her. She never once put up with it. For the most part, he was grateful.

Today he just wanted to stay at the hotel all day and take Katelyn back to bed.

“Aaron,” she chided fondly. “I know what you're doing.”

“I should hope so,” he said, hot breath tickling her ear. She shivered. “It's not the first time we've had sex.”

She rolled her eyes, pushing him away. “Andrew's not going to be late,” she said, smoothing her winter dress out, making sure Aaron hadn't wrinkled it when he was pressing her against the wall. “Get ready. It's nearly noon. We've slept long enough.”

Aaron huffed, but couldn't muster enough energy or desire to make it sound like anything but the reluctant acceptance it was. “At least Neil's not going,” he muttered, tugging a sweatshirt on over his shirt. The fact that it had his brother's team colors and symbol on it was just Nicky's humorous idea of a Christmas gift, but they were going to a sport's bar, and it was all he had.

(Katelyn still wasn't fooled, but the only thing she did was smirk at him from behind her toothbrush.)

It was December 28th. Aaron was almost done with medical school and Katelyn finally had enough time to take a vacation. She begged him to go see the ball drop in New York City. But if they were in New York, Aaron would feel obligated to visit his brother, since he and Josten both shared an apartment in the city. And Andrew wouldn't just let his brother visit without seeing him. They'd seen each other quite a few times since they both graduated and moved away. Aaron didn't like to admit it, but when they first separated, the distance seemed choking. He hadn't realized how used he got to his stupid brother's presence, but he could get used to his absence, as well. He _had_ gotten used to it.

Aaron Minyard was not excited to visit his brother. He was not excited to announce his and Katelyn’s engagement and he was not excited to invite him to his wedding.

“I'm not going, either,” she said, spitting toothpaste in the sink. “It's not a double date.”

“Thank God for that.”

“Shut up. Neil’s grown on you.”

“Like a tumor,” Aaron said but the joke fell flat. He sighed. “I don't hate him as much as I did in college,” he admitted.

Katelyn smirked. “He has proved useful to getting Andrew to agree to stuff,” she said, her voice high and cheeky with amusement. “I still can't believe they have two cats—and that Nicky named them.”

Aaron snorted. He wondered how the media would react if they ever found out Andrew Minyard and Neil Josten were not only dating, but disgustingly domestic. He could imagine the Buzzfeed article dedicated to Sir Fat Cat McCatterson and King Fluffykins now. It was as amusing as it was annoying.

A heavy knock at the door startled him out of his thoughts. Sighing, he slipped his shoes on and kissed Katelyn goodbye before going to answer it.

Andrew hadn't really changed much since college—or high school, really. His style was still monochromatic. He wore a thick, black, heavy hoodie and dark jeans with Doc Martens. He was even wearing a beanie that he suspected Josten got him for the winter. A bubble coat fit for the cold weather was slung on one arm.

“It's hot in here,” he complained apathetically.

Aaron ignored him. They were going outside, anyway, and with New York streets he doubted Andrew had parked close. The bar was only a block away.

“Are we walking?”

“Yes. Put your coat on.”

“I miss South Carolina,” he mumbled, but put his heavy winter coat on anyway, and followed his brother out the door.

By the time they made it to the bar, Aaron was frozen through. For a minute, he hated his brother for New York as much as he hated New York itself. It was too crowded, too loud, it smelled bad and there was snow inside his shoe.

Aaron huffed, shivering, as he sat in a booth across from Andrew. “What do I have to give you to trade somewhere warm? They have Exy in Hawaii, right?” He shrugged his coat off and shoved his frozen fingers into the front pocket of his hoodie. It was fleece inside, soft and warm. Forget everything awful he'd ever said about Nicky. His cousin was amazing. “I'll bribe you. What do you want?”

“I want nothing.” Andrew was unbothered by his dramatics. He was probably used to Josten complaining about the same damn thing. For a minute, he wondered if Josten could convince him to transfer somewhere warm. He discarded the idea of him asking Josten for anything as ridiculous.

Aaron rolled his eyes before turning his attention to the menu. The flight and slight time zone difference messed with his head. It felt like breakfast. And dammit, he was going to have wings for breakfast. He could burn it off shivering his ass off.

A waitress walked up to them, pausing at the edge of the table. “Hi, I'm Melissa, and I'll be—oh.” She glanced excitedly between the two and Aaron bit back an exasperated sigh. He was hoping no one would recognize them. Yes, it was a sports bar, but they mostly played football and general sports news. But of course, this was Andrew's home now, where he played, and someone was bound to recognize them. Him. He was hoping he wouldn't have to deal with it.

The bastard probably planned this.

“Sorry,” she said, flustered, as the twins stared blankly at her. “But I have to ask—which one of you plays for--?” Andrew interrupted her, smile sweet but completely fake, waving a hand to silence her. Aaron could probably count on both hands all the times he had seen his brother smile throughout the years after he was taken off his meds. He already hated what was about to come out of his mouth.

“I'd say it was the one in his official team sweatshirt.”

Aaron stiffened. He put on a smile as fake as Andrew’s, then figured it was out of character for him but kept it up anyway.

“Right. Well, my boyfriend's a huge fan of yours—the whole team, really. But anyways. What can I get you to drink?”

“I'm gay and I'm dating Neil Josten,” Aaron blurted, talking a mile a minute, hating the taste of the words in his mouth. After this, he was fucking Katelyn senseless. “We’ve lived together since college. We have two cats. They're disgusting. Neil calls them his babies. He's disgusting, too.”

Andrew carefully, deliberately stepped on his foot under the table. Hard, with the heel of his Doc Martens biting into the base of his toes. Aaron bit his lip to keep from crying out in shock. He smiled weakly at the waitress, who looked dumbfounded.

“I'll have a diet Coke,” he said.

She cleared her throat. “Right. Uh, and you?”

“Lemonade,” Andrew told her sweetly. “And I think we're ready to order.”

“Yeah,” Aaron agreed. “Buffalo wings and fries, please.” Dammit. Andrew never said please.

“Burger,” he said, “everything on it. Garlic fries.” He handed them back their menus. Melissa smiled at them.

“I'll have those drinks right out for you, and the food shouldn't take long at all.”

“Thank you,” Aaron said as she turned, wincing. He was really bad at playing his brother. “She recovered fast,” he noted.

“I hate you.” Andrew sounded bored, as if he didn't just out him and his boyfriend to some random waitress.

“You started it,” he said.

Andrew stared at him intensely. “I can finish it,” he said.

“Yeah, right. Katelyn and Nicky would never forgive you.”

“I don't need their forgiveness.”

“Neil would never forgive you,” Aaron said instead, although he wasn't sure it was the truth.

“Neil would help me hide your body.”

Aaron frowned. “You’d never forgive yourself.”

Andrew narrowed his eyes at him. He studied him in silence long enough to make Aaron uncomfortable and for their drinks to arrive.

Finally, he shrugged and said, “True.”

Aaron scoffed. “Everyone always says Neil is the dramatic one.”

“He is.”

Aaron ignored that. He talked absently about medical school, working on cadavers, his teachers and their assignments, how excited he was to graduate; he was used to filling the silence, now. It took a few years (and maybe some therapy), but he eventually learned how to talk to Andrew, even though Andrew rarely contributed anything. When he did, Aaron tried to listen. He (now) knew that his brother cared about him and his life and would listen to whatever it was he had to say. Even if it involved Katelyn.

He still hadn't mentioned the engagement. _I'll wait until after we eat,_ he decided just as the food was arriving.

He didn't get the chance to.

Halfway through the meal, Andrew cut Aaron off in the middle of a sentence.

“I was thinking of taking shifts in the ER when I can,” he said. “It's fast paced, especially in the capital, and—”

“Shut up,” Andrew snapped, whipping around in his seat. His tone was calm, as usual, but bordering on harsh. For a minute, Aaron was left annoyed and wondering what the hell it was he'd said that pissed his brother off.

Then, he followed his gaze.

“Oh,” Aaron said. Then, _“Jesus.”_

The bar had several tv's hanging on the walls; two were playing football. The one Andrew was focused on was playing sports news. It could have been anything, but of course it was Exy. Worse, it involved Neil.

The headline and text underneath it read, _Exy star Neil Josten—uncovered videos from Baltimore._

“And years ago,” a reporter was saying, “it was discovered that Neil Josten, current striker for the New York Flames, is actually Nathaniel Wesninski, son of the famed Butcher of Baltimore, who went missing with his mother when he was just a child. It seems we now know the full extent of Josten's relationship with the Butcher and just how he got those scars.”

In the background, to the right of the reporter, a small section of the screen was playing a silent video: Neil, on the ground, handcuffed and unconscious. There was blood, blurred out, on his face and trailing up his arms. It showed someone walking up to him, leaning over him and then cut to a different part of the video.

They had to leave. _“Andrew.”_

His name acted like a trigger. Andrew turned back around quickly, seeming more calm than he should have. He lifted halfway off the seat, digging his wallet out of his back pocket. He dug out all the cash he had and tossed it on the table, then slid out of the booth. Aaron followed, tugging his coat on and apologizing to the wait staff as they hurried out the door.

They walked briskly down the streets for two and a half blocks before Andrew led them inside a parking garage. They took the stairs up to the fifth floor. Aaron wondered if it wouldn't be faster to take the elevator, but he quietly followed his brother the whole way up.

He wasn't sure what type of car Andrew had now, but as they were getting into it, he noted how it was newer and just as fancy and expensive as that damn Maserati was from college. He was glad, at least, for the seat warmers.

For a minute, he wondered if Neil had bought this one with his blood money, too. _No_ , he thought; they both made more than enough now with their professional Exy careers.

After they'd been driving for five minutes, Aaron asked, “Why don't you just call him?”

“If I tell Neil to stay away from the tv, he'll do the exact opposite.” Andrew muttered a curse under his breath.

He wondered how often Neil inspired those words. He felt like he was back in college, watching his brother pace in front of a curtained motel window, covering his rage and fear by acting bored. He was sitting on the bed as they led Neil in, white bandages covering both cheeks, hoodie concealing half his face in shadows. In German, _A dashboard lighter,_ Nicky’s strangled gasp, choking sob; Neil glancing back, face cut and burned and tortured. Aaron, confronting him, mocking and accusing in a poorly concealed effort to get information, not actually to make sure Neil wasn't Drake all over again. To make sure Andrew actually had someone, that it wasn't one way, that Neil wasn't using Andrew. Punching Aaron with injured hands and nearly collapsing afterwards, making it clear he cared about Andrew. More than anyone would have liked to admit, would have expected.

Aaron hated Neil. He hated Neil for what he did to his brother—Andrew was on his second cigarette in a matter of minutes. He hadn't even fished the first one before lighting another, just flicked it out the cracked window. He hated him for being so strong and surviving and for being weak and needing people--Andrew—to do it. He hated Andrew for needing Neil and for caring about him.

More than that, he loved his brother. Goddammit and Josten was a part of his brother as much as Katelyn was a part of him.

Couldn’t they just have one afternoon together, to act like normal brothers, without life throwing another shit storm at them?

They made it to his apartment and Andrew pulled into his spot in the garage, right next to the door. He turned the car off and silently led Aaron up the stairs, then down the hall. He unlocked the apartment with a key and didn't hesitate to walk inside, Aaron at his heels.

Neil was sitting on the floor between the couch and the coffee table, with a glass knocked over and spilling purple onto the light tan carpet. The two cats were head butting him and rubbing up against him and Aaron quickly remembered to close the door. Neil's eyes were wide and dilated. His breathing was shallow but fast. If he kept it up, he was going to pass out. He looked pretty close to it. He wondered how long he'd been sitting on the floor, panicking, struggling to breathe.

Andrew was on his knees in a second, sitting in front of his boyfriend, putting a hand on the back of his neck and forcing him slightly forward and down. Aaron thought about telling him to sit up straight—it would help him take a breath—but figured Andrew knew what he was doing as Neil buried his face in Andrew's coat, grasping at the sides.

_“Andrew,”_ he gasped.

“Aaron. Turn it off.”

Aaron walked towards the tv, trying not to listen as Neil begged in the background behind another reporter's voice. He shut it off and glanced back at his brother— _Breathe, Neil, they're dead_ —and walked stiffly towards the kitchen.

The apartment was small and he could still hear everything, but there wasn't anywhere else to go. He wasn't about to lock himself in the bathroom or go outside on the balcony. The kitchen was neutral.

He looked through three cabinets before he found the coffee, listening to Neil's frantic gasping behind him and Andrew telling him to _Stop it_ and saying his full name as if it were a chant—or a prayer. _Neil Abram Josten._

He busied himself by figuring out the fancy coffee machine. As it heated and coffee began to trickle down, Neil quieted and Andrew stopped talking. He glanced back to see him practically limp in his brother's arms, exhausted after the panic attack.

During his trial, Aaron had grown familiar to them. They were practically debilitating. Afterwards, he'd refuse to leave his room or talk to anyone other than Katelyn and Andrew—even Nicky, although he had proved he was capable of acting calm and sober, hadn't been allowed in until he felt his strength returning.

He turned back to give them privacy—When had he started caring about what Josten needs?—but listened as Neil started talking.

“I heard her voice,” he said, quiet and gravelly.

“She's dead,” Andrew said.

Neil hummed quietly. Minutes passed.

“You spilled your stupid protein smoothie on the carpet,” Andrew said and Aaron bit back an inappropriate laugh.

“Good,” Josten said. “The carpet's ugly. I've been trying to get you to replace it for three years.”

It was quiet for a moment. The coffee had finished, so Aaron poured himself a mug, helped himself to the creamer in the fridge. He heard shuffling behind him but didn't turn around. Instead, he poured another mug of coffee. A chair scraped behind him. He grabbed a cup in each hand and turned to face them, sliding one across the table to Josten. Neil looked surprised, but before he had a chance to react, Andrew smacked his hand away.

“No caffeine. You're showering and going to bed.”

“It's one in the afternoon,” Neil complained. “And I just sat down.”

“And you just had a panic attack that lasted nearly twenty minutes. Go the fuck to sleep. You look like shit.”

Andrew was right, of course. Josten’s face was pale and worn. His hair was disheveled and he kept tightening his fingers into hard fists. He looked sick and not that far away from another panic attack.

Neil scowled half heartedly but didn't protest anymore. Aaron watched them quietly as Andrew made hot tea and passed it to Neil.

He felt his phone buzz in his pocket. It must have been the group chat, because Neil dug his phone out of his sweatshirt. Andrew swiftly stole it from him as he poured creamer and sugar into the coffee Aaron had placed on the table. Neil frowned but didn't say anything.

“Go shower,” Andrew repeated.

Josten nodded, hesitantly casting him an unreadable glance. Aaron looked away and sipped his coffee as he and Andrew kissed. Neil murmured something in Russian, and Aaron looked back in time to see one corner of Andrew's mouth tilt up. His eyes didn't seem so bored or dead.

Aaron took another sip of his coffee.

Neil nodded to him. “Bye, Aaron,” he said, the closest thing to awkward as Aaron had ever seen him since college.

Uncomfortable, Aaron returned his goodbye. Andrew looked bored as he watched his boyfriend pad down the short hallway and into the bathroom. He set his mug in the sink as he heard the water turn on. Andrew did the same as he checked his phone for all of two minutes before shoving it back in his pocket and turning towards the door.

They hadn't discussed what to do next, but it was obvious. Aaron followed his brother back to the still warm car. He climbed into the passenger side without a word, texting Katelyn that he would be back sooner rather than later.

Five minutes into the drive, Andrew turned the music down. Aaron waited patiently.

“They only put the inactive clips on the news,” he said, voice calm and steady. Aaron wondered how much effort it took to keep his voice from shaking. He knew his brother wasn't actually incapable of human emotion, even if it felt like it at times. “The full videos were leaked online. I need to know how bad it is.”

Aaron looked back out the window. The buildings here were so tall. He felt small. Even shorter than usual.

“I'll let you know,” Aaron promised. “Don't watch them. Text me tonight.” He hesitated. It was bad timing, but Andrew would be more pissed if he kept secrets from him, especially now. “I have some news, anyway.”

Beside him, Andrew grunted in acknowledgement.

They made it to the hotel a few minutes later. Thinking of how surprisingly civil he and Josten were, Aaron took a chance as he stepped out of the vehicle.

“I'll tell Katelyn you say hi,” Aaron said.

Andrew stared at him as he lit a cigarette. He didn't comment or protest.

Aaron counted that as a win.

Maybe they would come down next New Year, too. 

**Author's Note:**

> Famous Exy team, the New York #FlamingGays (just kidding, Neil is demisexual)
> 
> Ahahaha (I'm sorry)


End file.
